Three jobs, seven cats,
crooked glasses, and wet hair.
*(I know you want me.)

If you're the moon,
I'm the sun,
hopelessly chasing night
but you're on the run.

Or maybe I'm the tide.
and as I taste your shore,
I'm ****** out to sea,
desperately longing for more.

I never dreamed of being
your tragic impossibility,
but for you and me,
love was never meant to be.

*m.w.

Here, alone, awake
I find solace in you
in what you give
in what you take
awake to the sound
as heart beats begin
swept in the tide
of love , come again....

twice around the moon
once around the sun
is not far enough for my heart to run
a flower like this
blooms once, not twice
sown to bring joy
to bring beauty and life
my voice becomes frail
upon hearing you speak
so many things to tell
but my voice it is weak
a kiss, a brush
across you sweet lips
I feel you now
no words need to slip
someday I will hold you
soft and so near
as words of desire
fall like rain to your ears
<<<exhale>>>

one: dieing was the least of my worries.
two: living requires all my concentration.
three: i have not cried for three days because god made me without tear ducts.
and a half: I think he did it for my own good.
four: i can't sleep because he shouts at me when i dream.
five: i have been buying self help books and feminist poetry
and a half: i want to be stronger.
six: i think i got more of my fathers genes than my mothers.
seven: i am jealous of the other planets because I would like to be alone also.
eight: my loneliness is sweet, sweet, sweet.
nine: ive never felt the kiss of anyone who loved me. Not even from my dad.
ten: i listen to sad music because i understand sad music.
and a half: happy music has never spoken to me.
eleven: my aunties get on there knees and cry and pray for my health, whilst I drink eleven shots and fall to my knees for other reasons.
twelve: i want to believe.
thirteen: i want to be naïve.
fourteen: i would like to be less selfish, but I still find myself avoiding newspapers because my life is hard enough without the weight of the world on my shoulders also.
fifteen: i am weary of treading too ******* dirt because i know it will be my home one day.
sixteen: i remember how hard it was to imagine myself living past seventeen.
seventeen: as flames flicker I feel them burning my flesh. as they will.
eighteen: who would've thought my lungs would still support me to this age.